Post Pennsic and The Mercenary Logic of Children.
Well I'd have a nice wrap-up write up of Penn37, however I still cant seem to organize a coherent train of thought. Those of you who know me outside of pennsic this comes as no surprise.
so. Pennsic 37 = great. Awesome weather, good fighting, all around just awesome.
Fizzball - nuff said.
Now then I work in a Pediatric office as one of the medics, I take vitals, I do paperwork, I do procedures ( think minor procedures toenails removed tonsils swabbed IV's stuck etc etc et al.)
This morning one of the guys from the hospital brought his daughter in for her annual check up. she couldn't have been more than 4 or 5. I set about taking her vitals.
one of those numbers is her "Pulse Ox" or roughly how much oxygen she has in the blood stream. This meant applying a small band aid like thing with a lil red light in it wrapped around her big toe.
She screamed bloody murder. Now this in and of itself is nothing to write home about. What happens next in my mind is:
The whole time she was thee she was clinging to her ducky like it was the only thing on the planet that understood her, and was willing to go the mile with her, for her, etc.
when she figured out I wasn't letting go of her toe by screaming -
She thrust the ducky at me in a " HERE! TAKE MY DUCK! LEAVE MY FOOT!"
I laughed so hard I had tears.
Some kids know the value of a good stuffed ducky, others are willing to walk away from said duck for their big toe.
I am very amused.
so. Pennsic 37 = great. Awesome weather, good fighting, all around just awesome.
Fizzball - nuff said.
Now then I work in a Pediatric office as one of the medics, I take vitals, I do paperwork, I do procedures ( think minor procedures toenails removed tonsils swabbed IV's stuck etc etc et al.)
This morning one of the guys from the hospital brought his daughter in for her annual check up. she couldn't have been more than 4 or 5. I set about taking her vitals.
one of those numbers is her "Pulse Ox" or roughly how much oxygen she has in the blood stream. This meant applying a small band aid like thing with a lil red light in it wrapped around her big toe.
She screamed bloody murder. Now this in and of itself is nothing to write home about. What happens next in my mind is:
The whole time she was thee she was clinging to her ducky like it was the only thing on the planet that understood her, and was willing to go the mile with her, for her, etc.
when she figured out I wasn't letting go of her toe by screaming -
She thrust the ducky at me in a " HERE! TAKE MY DUCK! LEAVE MY FOOT!"
I laughed so hard I had tears.
Some kids know the value of a good stuffed ducky, others are willing to walk away from said duck for their big toe.
I am very amused.